The Rundown
by Caroline Michelle
Summary: AU. Yaoi. 1x2. Heero Yuy is a bounty hunter whose mission is to track down one Duo Maxwell. What should be a simple job turns complicated very quickly.
1. Chapter 1

"Mr. Yuy, I am so pleased you could meet with me on such short notice."

Heero declined the man's outstretched hand, instead settling himself down into one of the expensive leather chairs in front of the man's desk.

"I was told you had a job for me."

The man blinked, dropping his hand. "I do." He sat in his own chair, leaning forward to look Heero in the eye.

"There's someone I want you to find for me," the man said, pushing a manila folder across the heavy oak desk.

"There usually is," Heero replied, glancing quickly at the woman standing ramrod stiff behind the man's chair. Her dress said secretary, but her stance screamed bodyguard. She would not look him in the eye, either a dangerous habit, or she was embarrassed that an outsider had to be called in on this matter.

Heero leaned forward to pick up the folder, thumbing through its contents. "What's the story?"

"I had a young man in my... employ. He was trusted with many important aspects of my business operations. I had hoped to mold him into a leader by giving him more responsibilities and placing my trust in him. He had a bright future in my organization, but instead of being grateful, the little wretch betrayed my trust and made off with a sizable amount of money."

Heero looked up. "How much?"

"Twenty-five million credits."

That made Heero raise one eyebrow. Slightly. "That's quite a lot of money. Guy must have balls to steal such a large sum from someone like yourself, Mr. Khushrenada."

Treize Khushrenada winced, a scowl settling on his features, spoiling what one would call a handsome face. No doubt the man had used his looks to charm women and businessmen alike. Fortunately, Heero was neither.

"One million."

"Excuse me?" The scowl was replaced by surprise.

"One million to find him and bring him to you. That is what you want, no?"

Treize nodded. "I don't want him killed. Not, at least, until I have learned the whereabouts of my money."

Heero shrugged. "I'm not an assassin. I'm a bounty hunter. What you do after I bring him to you is of no consequence to me, and frankly the less I know about your plans, the better it is for all of us."

"Understood."

Heero turned his attention back to the papers in his hands. He shifted through them, looking for details, clues. Better to be thorough now than impatient and unprepared later. It was a philosophy that had kept him alive for the last twenty-nine years. "Duo Barton… last known location on Colony L2, Cluster X76412." He looked up. "Not exactly where I'd run to if I'd just stolen 25 million."

"The theft took place over two years ago." Treize glanced sharply at the woman standing behind him.

Two years? Heero's estimation of the guy rose a notch. Khushrenada was a man of impeccable wealth and power. Heero was certain he had been called in as a last resort; the man's own people had failed to track one little wannabe paper pusher. That took some skills.

"There's not a picture in this file."

Khushrenada opened a drawer and took out a photograph, sliding it across the desk. Heero picked it up, blinking at the image in surprise. The young man in the picture had a heart-shaped face, with just a hint of residual baby fat rounding his cheeks. His eyes were the most unusual shade of blue-violet, and his hair was long, draped in a braid over one shoulder. He looked young – almost too young to have done what Khushrenada was claiming. "He's just a kid."

"That is the most recent photograph I could find. It was taken four years ago, at age sixteen. He would be close to twenty-one by now."

"How did he get access to your personal information and accounts at such a young age?" Heero asked. There was something about the face staring up at him from the photo that bothered him.

"Like I said, he had potential."

"Potential. Right." More like sleeping with the boss, perhaps? Or not. According to the records in his hands, the kid had had exceptional scores on the company aptitude tests. His IQ was high, and he'd had a near perfect work record up until the theft. Khushrenada's agents had tracked him from Earth to L1, lost him on L3 before catching a lucky break on L2. But the last sighting had been six months prior. This would not be an easy rundown, if the kid was as good as Heero hoped he was. He was always looking for a challenge.

"Do you agree to my price?"

"One million? That seems a little pricey for a scrawny kid."

"I want half up front."

Khushrenada laughed out loud. "My dear Mr. Yuy. I am a businessman. And one of the first things I learned about business is to never pay for something without seeing what you are getting." He took another envelope out of his drawer and slid it to him. "That's a ticket to L2 and five thousand credits. Should you need more, contact me. You will receive your payment only after you have walked Duo Barton through that door."

Heero gave him a measured look. Normally, he would demand half up front as a gesture of good faith from his clients. But no one had ever agreed to his asking price of a million before. The kid might have some skills, but Heero always got his prey in the end. For the prospect of a million, he could forgo the up front payment this once.

"Done. Do you have the contract?"

"I do." Another piece of paper came out of the desk. Heero looked it over, noting with satisfaction all the legalities, then signed it.

The woman behind Khushrenada made a small, strangling sound as he pushed the contract back across the desk. Ahh. So she was the one who had failed to track the kid. She was also the one he would need to talk to.

As if sensing his thoughts, Khushrenada gestured to the woman. "This is the head of my personal security team, Ms. Une. She can fill you in on Barton's movements since we discovered the theft."

Heero nodded, standing. The woman, Une, still refused to look at him.

"There is one other thing," Khushrenada continued.

"Yes?"

"Barton… also stole something personal. I would very much like to have it back."

"What was it?"

"A small gold cross. It belonged to my late wife. I wish it returned."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think he'd still have it?"

"He'll have it. Just make sure to bring it with him."

Heero had his doubts. Jewelry was an easy hock for quick cash. If Barton had hidden the twenty-five million in a hard-to-access place, he'd have sold the cross for supplies or credits. "Is the cross necessary for my payment?"

Khushrenada hesitated. "Yes. But like I said, he'll have it on him."

Heero's eyes narrowed. This hadn't been included in the contract. He hunted people, not baubles. There was more to this mark than he was being told. Perhaps he could get it out of this Une woman.

"The cross was not in the contract. I can take you to court on this if need be."

"Mr. Yuy, I am a very powerful man. I own the courts. Bring me Barton and the cross and I'll double your fee."

His heart did a little flip-flop. Two million. For a kid and a piece of jewelry. If Barton did not have the cross, Heero would make him tell him where it was. It was a gamble. Double or nothing. This was going to be a challenge indeed.

"I'll leave tomorrow."

"Excellent. Une, would you escort Mr. Yuy to Conference Room B and answer any questions he has for you?"

The woman nodded sharply. "Yes, sir." She walked stiffly to the door. "If you would follow me?"

Heero nodded once to Khushrenada before he left. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Khushrenada nodded back. "Bring him back to me, Mr. Yuy."

'No problem there,' Heero thought as he followed Une out of Khushrenada's office. Heero always got his man.

Another day, another dotted line. Relena idly wondered, as she signed her name to yet another piece of legislation, if she ought to stop and actually read what she was signing. Of course, if she actually stopped to do *that*, she'd never get anything done. She simply had to rely on her assistants and staff to only send things to her desk to be signed that she supported. Like payroll. She frowned as she looked down at the authorization form. Had it really been two weeks already? She could have sworn she had signed one of these just the other day.

"You need to get out more," she mumbled to herself as she signed in the appropriate spot and reached for the next stack.

The phone on her desk beeped, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Miss Peacecraft? There's a call for you on line one," came the disembodied voice of her secretary through the speaker.

"Can you take a message for me please? I'm running behind today," Relena replied, not looking up, absently pushing back an errant lock of hair out of her face.

"Yes, ma'am."

The phone went silent. Relena turned back to her paperwork. Scratch, scratch, shuffle, shuffle. She could have sworn her paperwork was breeding.

The phone buzzed again. "I'm sorry, ma'am. But the caller on one seems pretty persistent."

Relena sighed. "Who is it, Dorothy?"

"He says his name is Odin Lowe. I told him you were busy, but..."

Relena's eyes widened at the name. "Thank you, Dorothy. I'll take the call."

"Yes, ma'am."

Relena picked up the phone, pressing the flashing button on her phone, holding her breath as she placed the receiver to her ear.

"'Lena?"

"Heero." She let out the breath, slumping in her chair. "You never call me on this line. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, 'Lena. I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out tomorrow."

Relena frowned. "New job?"

"Aa."

"Dangerous?"

"Shouldn't be."

Relena sighed. "I guess this means you won't be making it to my reception this weekend."

"You know I don't like those things, 'Lena."

"I know. Which is why I make you escort me." She paused, listening to him breathe on the other end of the line. "When do you think you'll be back?"

"Monday, Tuesday at the most. Simple rundown. Some kid stole twenty-five mil from Treize Khushrenada and he wants it back."

Relena blinked. "Treize Khushrenada? *The* Treize Khushrenada of OZ Corp.?"

She could hear Heero shrug over the phone. "I suppose. His office was fancy enough for it."

"Damn. I've been trying to meet with him for the past two months. If I'd known you had an *invitation* into the inner sanctum, I'd have come along."

"'Lena..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You don't want it out that your best friend is an Earthsphere senator, and it wouldn't exactly do my reputation any good if people knew I had my own bounty hunter in my pocket. But damn, Khushy is a slippery bugger."

"Khushy? Never mind, I don't want to know," Heero said with a small laugh. "What does the Senate want with OZ Corp. anyway?"

Relena leaned back in her chair, fingers tangling themselves in the phone cord. "Rumors. Nothing concrete. I am sure he will deny everything."

"What kinds of rumors?"

"Arms manufacturing. There's a plant on L3 we're particularly interested in, but so far, our agents have not had any luck in gaining access. I don't suppose you've heard anything?"

"Sorry. I only listen when it's prudent for me to do so."

Relena suppressed another sigh. "Well, since you're working for him, if you hear anything..."

"You'll be the first person I call."

"And if you don't, you'll call anyway, right, Heero?"

"Aa."

"Good." She hesitated, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. "Look, Heero... be careful, okay?"

"I always am."

"I know. It's just... I can't lose you, too..." She trailed off before her voice could crack.

"You won't, 'Lena," the man on the other end replied, almost tenderly. "I'll be in touch in a few days."

She smiled. "You do that. And you owe me a party."

"Wherever you want to go, 'Lena."

She sighed again, her hand creeping up to grasp the locket containing the portraits of her dead parents. "I wish you'd just take my offer to join my staff and come stay with me. I wouldn't have to worry about you so much then."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "'Lena, you know I can't..."

"I know," she replied sadly. "Just... stay safe and call me as soon as you get back."

"Aa. Try not to eat any of your colleagues alive while I'm gone."

Relena had to laugh at that. "My best behavior, I promise. Besides, I couldn't hide the bodies without your help." Another long lapse of silence. "I love you, Heero."

"Good-bye, 'Lena."

The phone went dead in her hand. Relena sighed, reaching over to hang up the receiver. She always worried about Heero when he went out on his "jobs," but this time he was dealing with Khushrenada himself. He was a dangerous man... she just couldn't prove it. Still, it must be one hell of a job for Heero to take it at all. He could read people as well as she.

But Heero was a law unto himself, with a different set of morals almost alien to her own. She knew he would not kill for his clients — he'd sworn never to kill again — but that did not stop him from being ruthless.

Despite that, she still worried for him. He was playing a dangerous game, and even the best players lost every once in a while.

She dropped her pendant, leaning back against her chair and closing her eyes.

"Stay safe, Heero. Or I swear to God I'll have you locked up where you can't get yourself into trouble anymore!"


	2. Chapter 2

The rain was coming down fast and furious — almost too much for a colony's artificial weather, but then, L2 wasn't know for its technological advances. The financial situation of the colony as a whole had been in dire straits for some years. Ever since the mobile suit industry had dried up when the EarthSphere government took control and established peace between nations and colonies alike, L2 had been in decline. Factories lay dormant, workers were forced out onto the streets after losing their jobs — most couldn't afford even steerage class tickets earthside.

It had been raining for days. Heero stood under an awning of an abandoned flower shop, huddled against the boarded up windows, smoking a cigarette, watching patrons enter and exit a bar across the street. He took a drag, trying to ignore the bitter aftertaste the smoke left in his mouth. He didn't normally smoke, but he found it a good excuse to be loitering on the street. People tended to ignore you if you were simply stopping for a smoke.

He'd been on L2 for eight days, much longer than he'd anticipated. This Barton was either very good at covering his tracks or just very damn lucky. He'd known Barton would not have been at his last known location, otherwise Khushrenada's people would have found him. But Heero started there anyway, looking for whatever trail they'd missed.

He'd followed the obvious trail to the spaceport, where a "D. Burton" had booked a flight to L4. It was too obvious a ploy, however, and it only took Heero a few minutes poking around the 'port passenger database to realize that someone else had been there before him, planting the name on the passenger manifest in order to throw off anyone looking for him. Heero was willing to bet Barton was still on L2. Finding him, however, had proved to be a little tricky.

He'd caught a lucky break in the small flat Barton had been renting before Khushrenada's people had caught up with him again. The place had been cleaned out, but Heero spotted a matchbook wedged between the dilapidated refrigerator and the counter. With the name of a local diner in hand, a few subtle questions and 100 credits later, he'd learned that a man fitting Barton's description had been a frequent patron but had disappeared about two weeks before. Another 50 credits and Heero had the name of a hostel the fry cook had recommended to Barton in a different cluster of the L2 colony.

Barton's trail was difficult at best to follow, but Heero was more than determined. One million credits would bring him closer to his goal. Two million would well put him over. He would then be able to keep the promise he made to Relena long ago to retire and get out of this business. He'd never thought he'd reach it before he turned 30. Duo Barton was the key to his goal, and he was not letting the kid get away, not when he was this close.

For a week, Heero had followed Barton's trail, almost losing it a handful of times. Another lucky break in the form of a would-be pickpocket with a loose mouth had led him here, a hole-in-the-wall dive called simply "Howard's."

He'd been standing in the rain outside Howard's for the last twenty minutes, smoking his rarely used cigarettes, watching the doors to see what kind of clientele the place catered to. It was not one of your high-end establishments. The building was obviously well-tended, but its age was showing. Gray flecks of paint that had once probably been white were peeling off the walls. The windows were covered in black paper, barred from the street. Smoke lilted through the air every time the door opened to admit a shabbily dressed patron. Not many people had exited the bar, but it was early yet. In a neighborhood such as this, Heero surmised that those poor souls who chose to frequent Howard's came early and stayed late.

Flicking his still-lit butt to the ground, stepping on it with his heel without a second thought, he stepped out into the rain, quickly crossing the street to the entrance and slipping inside the run-down establishment.

The acrid smell of cigarette smoke assaulted his senses as he stepped inside. The atmosphere was smoky, a cloudy haze hanging over the patrons hunched over their drinks in groups of two or three or scattered singly in small, dark corners. A quick scan of the room showed there was no sign of his target, but he hadn't expected to find Barton there. This was just one more piece of the trail. He shuffled off his coat and made his way to the bar.

He slipped onto a torn, wobbly stool, gesturing for the barkeep, an old man in a loud, multicolored shirt with a towel thrown over one shoulder. The man gave him a once over before setting a glass down in front of him.

"What're yer drinkin'?" he asked, his voice rough and slurred in the manner of the local dialect.

Heero hesitated for the barest moment. "Scotch. Neat."

The old man grunted before turning away to drag a dusty bottle out from under the counter. Turning back to Heero, he splashed some of the amber liquid into the glass. Heero could only hope the glass was at least clean.

The alcohol burned as he swallowed. Heero steeled himself not to grimace as he set the glass down gingerly.

"Anythin' else I get yer?" the man asked, leaning against the back of the bar.

"Yes," Heero replied, digging through his coat pocket for Barton's picture. It was looking worn and now bent on one corner. Heero knew every angle, every line of the image, having studied it often since arriving on L2. He slid the picture across the bar toward the old man. "I'm looking for this guy. He'd be a bit older now."

The man picked the picture up. Heero had to give him credit; there was only the slightest twitch of recognition.

The barkeep shook his head and handed the picture back. "Haven't seen him. Sorry."

Heero pocketed the picture, giving a half-hearted shrug. "I heard he hadn't been around these parts in a while. It was a last ditch effort." He picked up his glass and threw back the rest of his drink. Pulling out his wallet, he tossed a handful of credits on the bar. "Thanks for your time."

The bartender nodded, picking up Heero's glass. Heero watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he made a show of pulling his jacket on and looking around the bar with feigned interest. He slid off the stool and turned to leave. He stopped before he reached the door, fumbling in his jacket for a cigarette and lighter. Leaning against the wall to light up, he gave the bar area a surreptitious glance. As he suspected, the bartender left his post, disappearing through a set of swinging doors in the back. Heero shoved his lighter into his jacket pocket and left, stepping out into the rain.

The building that housed the bar was adjacent to another building, but there was a narrow alleyway on the other side. Heero flicked his cigarette away into the street and slipped down the alley, hugging the wall, staying in the shadows.

Behind the building was a vacant lot. Heero wrinkled his nose at the stench of the dumpster drifted toward him. He peered around the corner and waited.

His instincts did not fail him. A moment later the old, rusty back door to the bar opened and a slender figure stepped out, followed by the barkeep.

"Thanks for the warning, Howie," Heero heard his quarry say.

"Get outta here, kid," the old man said. "Get off colony if yer can. It's becoming too dangerous to be here anymore."

"I know. I just... can't." The slim figure took a step away from the door. Heero slipped a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket.

"Yeah, I know. Just take care, kid."

"Thanks, Howie."

The door closed and the young man turned, walking straight for the alley, right toward Heero.

Heero palmed the cuffs, waited until Barton was within reach, then stepped out of the shadows.

"Duo Bart...?"

Before he could even finish the man's name, he heard a muffled curse. The slender figure plowed into him, shoving him out of his path in an attempt to get past. Heero lost his balance, but grabbed Barton's sleeve as he fell, dragging the young man down with him. They wrestled on the ground, in the dark. Barton kicked at him, catching him in the shin. Heero grit his teeth, catching one of Barton's arms in his grip, using the leverage to flip them over.

He ended up sitting on Barton's back, pinning the young man's arm at an angle Heero knew would start to hurt if Barton continued to struggle.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off!"

"Stop struggling or you'll end up with a dislocated shoulder," Heero said, quickly flipping open the cuffs and locking one around the wrist he had pinned.

"Christ, tell Quinze I'll pay him his damn money! There's no need to get physical..."

"Quinze didn't send me," Heero replied. This kid owed someone money? Where were the millions he had stolen?

The young man underneath him tried to buck him off. Heero grunted and pushed him back down, pulling hard on Barton's arm. Barton cried out, his body taut but still.

"Wh-who are you?" he gasped, his voice strained.

"I was sent to find you and bring you back," Heero replied, grasping the young man's other wrist, pulling it around so he could lock the other cuff around it. "I have to congratulate you, Barton. You were more of a challenge than most."

"B-barton?" The struggles began again in earnest. "Damn it, you've got the wrong guy! My name is Maxwell!"

Heero stood, dragging his quarry up off the wet ground. He pulled Barton out of the alley, into the pale, yellowed glow of a street light. Even in the dim light, Barton looked pale. His clothes were stained and wet, and his long hair was disheveled, coming out of its tangled braid. Despite the fact that Heero could not tell what color his eyes were in the washed-out light, there was no mistaking the familiar heart-shaped face. The face had been burned into his mind from looking at Barton's picture almost obsessively since leaving Earth.

Still holding onto Barton's – Maxwell's – whatever he wanted to call himself – arm, he dug the worn picture out of his coat, shoving it into his prisoner's face.

Barton went absolutely still. "Who sent you?" he asked, so softly Heero barely heard over the rain.

"Khushrenada. You stole something from him. He wants it back. I've been paid to bring you in."

Barton gave him a stricken look. "You can't."

Heero put the picture away. A glint of metal caught his eye, hovering just under Barton's shirt. His eyes widened slightly. Surely it wasn't that easy.

He reached out, grabbing the chain and pulling it out from Barton's ragged T-shirt. A small, gold cross tumbled into his hand.

"Don't you touch that! It's mine!" Barton yelled, pulling back violently in an effort to get Heero to let go of the necklace.

Heero jerked Barton back to him, slipping the cross back under his shirt and away from the prying, greedy eyes of L2. Taking Barton's arm, he pulled him down the street.

Barton struggled, not intending to go quietly. But with his hands bound behind his back, Heero knew escape would be impossible.

"Look, man... maybe we can cut a deal?" the young man pleaded, dragging his feet.

"I have a signed contract with Khushrenada for your return," Heero replied, ignoring Barton's struggles with a firm grip on the kid's arm. "Struggling will only make it worse for you."

"Fuck that shit!" the kid cried out. "I'm not going back there! I left of my own free will and I will not be dragged back to that place like an errant child!"

"You call making off with twenty-five million leaving of your own 'free will'?" Heero asked, incredulous. Damn, but this kid had balls.

Barton stopped struggling. Heero looked at him, surprised to see shock and bewilderment on the young man's face. "He... I did what?"

"Stole twenty-five million credits from Treize Khushrenada. Why so surprised? Or did you not know just how much was in the account you hacked?"

Barton let out a short, biting laugh. "That's... that's crazy. I ain't no thief! And I sure as hell didn't steal twenty-five million. Jesus... why do you think I would be caught dead in this shithole if I had that much?"

Heero shrugged. "I don't care to know your motives. I'm just paid to do a job."

Pain exploded through him as Barton's foot connected with his crotch. Another swift kick swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the wet pavement. A sharp blow to his stomach a moment later made his breath leave his lungs in a rush. His vision swam as he instinctively curled in on himself to protect his body from another blow.

Something clattered to the ground in front of his face. He opened his eyes, seeing through the stars, to see his handcuffs laying in a puddle in front of him.

A shadow passed over him. Heero looked up, blinking through the rain which had begun to pour down, to see Barton standing over him, hands free and poised to run.

"Sorry, man. I know you're just doing your job. But I can't go back to him. I didn't steal any money. Just tell him I can't be a part of his life anymore and to forget about me."

Then the shadow was gone, as was his prisoner. Barton disappeared into the darkness. Heero coughed and pushed himself up off the saturated pavement, catching his cuffs as he stood and sliding them back into his pocket. He leaned against a lamp post in an effort to catch his breath. He looked down the darkened street in the direction Barton had disappeared. This was going to be more of a challenge than he thought.

He smiled a little and followed Barton into the night.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Picking up Barton's trail hadn't been too hard, even in the pouring rain which finally seemed to be letting up. Barton was moving slowly, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the heavily populated areas, giving Heero ample opportunity to catch up to him. He kept himself at a discreet distance as he watched the kid slink down a deserted alley. His lower gut ached from where Barton had kicked him, but he pushed through the pain. He was close to catching his quarry. Then he could go home, forget about this life and start a new one.

Barton led him to an old, dilapidated apartment building that would have been stylish about forty years prior. Now the doors were boarded up, the façade was crumbling and the lower windows had bars on them. A large sign declaring the building condemned was plastered over the boards blocking the front entrance. Heero watched from across the street as Barton pried the board away from the entrance just enough to allow his slim form to slip through the crack.

Heero stepped out of the shadows, ready to cross the street and follow Barton into the building, when a pair of voices came out of the dark. Heero cursed silently, stepping back out of the light, and watched warily as two men came into view, stopping in front of the boarded-up building.

The taller one had long dirty blond hair that hung to his shoulders. He wore a long, designer coat that made him stick out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. The other was shorter, but Heero could tell he was the muscle of the pair. He had a darker complexion, and the way he moved, Heero could tell he was aware of everything around him.

Heero felt a twinge of irritation. What were those two morons doing? The blond was smoking a cigarette, leaning against the building, while the other stalked up and down the sidewalk, in front of the boarded entrance, as if waiting for something... or someone...

The board moved. The two men instantly became alert, the tall one throwing his cigarette away. Heero watched as Barton shimmied out from behind the boards and into the waiting arms of the shorter man.

Heero again had to give the kid credit. Barton fought like a wild animal, giving the blond a the beginning of a shiner before the shorter of the two men pinned Barton's arms behind him.

Barton kicked out at the blond, who avoided the blow with ease, laughing at the kid as he backhanded him. Heero fought down the urge to help Barton. He could see the tell-tale bulge of a gun under the blond's coat, and he himself was armed with little more than a hunting knife, as he had promised Relena long ago never to use a firearm again. He sometimes regretted that promise, but it was easier to avoid a killing blow with a knife than with a gun.

Barton struggled against his captor, kicking and screaming at the two men.

"You son of a bitch! Where is she?" he screamed at the blond, still trying to get out of the other's grasp.

The blond laughed and said something Heero couldn't quite make out. He took a chance that the two men's attention was adequately focused on Barton before he crept from his hiding spot, moving closer, crouching down behind a cluster of trash cans, opposite the street but within hearing range.

"Tell me where she is, you sick fucks!" Barton screamed again, trying desperately to get at the blond.

"You know where she is, Duo. My father is tired of waiting. Either you pay him what you owe now, or come and work for him. Do neither and she'll take your place."

Barton let out a howl of rage, managing to free one arm for a moment, long enough to give the blond a bloody lip before the darker man regained control, throwing the kid to the ground. Barton hit the pavement – hard. The blond kicked at the dazed figure, then spat blood at him.

"You little shit. I don't know what my father sees in you. You have until tomorrow night. Bring the money or bring your scrawny ass. I don't care which." He gestured to his partner and left Barton lying on the sidewalk.

The kid didn't move, though Heero could tell he was conscious. He waited a few moments, to make sure the goons didn't double back, before he crossed the street to the prone form on the ground.

Barton had his hands wrapped around his stomach. Heero found it hard to sympathize. He knelt down next to the kid and shook him. "Do you require medical attention?"

Barton groaned, his eyes still closed. He shook his head. "I'll be okay in a minute," he said, his voice hoarse.

Heero nodded, taking out his handcuffs. He'd be more careful this time, alert and aware of the kid's every move. He reached down, took one of Barton's wrists and snapped the cuff around it.

The kid's eyes flew open. He yanked at his arm, but Heero held firm. "You!"

"Me," Heero replied, reaching for the other hand.

Barton slapped at him. "God dammit, I don't have time for this!" he cried.

"Tough," Heero said, grabbing the kid's other hand and snapping the cuff around the wrist, making sure they were secure, this time in front of his body. He stood, hauling the kid off the pavement.

"You don't understand!" Barton insisted, trying to pull away. "I"ve got something I gotta go do. It's important! A matter of life or death!"

"That's what they all say," Heero said, already bored with the kid's theatrics.

"No! Please!" He stopped struggling.

Heero looked at him in surprise. There was hidden desperation in the kid's voice.

"Please," Barton pleaded, tugging at his cuffed hands. "There's a girl. She's in trouble. I have to help her."

Heero almost hesitated. Something in the kid's voice made him want to listen. But his practical side pushed that little voice away. He prodded Barton down the street. "It's no longer your concern," he said, holding the kid tightly by the wrists. He wasn't going to get out of them this time.

The next moment, Heero found himself trying to hold onto a miniature whirlwind as the kid rushed him, trying to hit at him with his bound hands and using his feet to land a disabling blow. "Fuck you, asshole!" the kid screamed, his braid whipping around to slap Heero in the face as he tried to twist out of the bounty hunter's grip.

Heero had had enough. He grabbed hold of the kid's hair, twisting the rope-like length around his fist in order to jerk Barton's head back. The kid let out a strangled scream before Heero punched him in the face. The violent struggles stopped immediately as Barton slumped in his arms, unconscious. Heero sighed and shifted the kid's body so he could dig out the disposable cell phone he'd bought on his first day on L2. He admired the kid's spirit, but damned if he wasn't a pain in the ass.

Twenty minutes and one phone call later, Heero tumbled the kid's unresponsive body into the back seat of a cab. He slipped the driver a fifty up front and gave him the excuse he was seeing a drunk friend home. The cabbie glanced at the cuffs around the kids wrists and shrugged, pocketing the money. "I don't care how you get your kicks," the man said, shifting into gear as Heero closed the door. "Just don't let him puke in the backseat."

Heero frowned at the back of the cabbie's head as they drove toward his hotel. It bothered him that the man thought this was some kind of sexual game. Unconscious, Barton looked even younger than his twenty-one years. Much too young for Heero, who was fast approaching thirty and who, without much sleep in the past few days, looked even older. He peered out of the cab window into the dark, wet streets, wondering again just how anybody could live here. L2 was not a hospitable place, especially for kids like Barton. What was he doing in the slums? Where was Khushrenada's money?

He turned back to study his prisoner. This whole situation didn't seem logical. Barton was much too young to have garnered as much responsibility in Khushrenada's empire as he'd been led to believe, no matter what his talents may have been. Unless he was an extremely glib actor with a genius IQ, it took time to work one's way up in a company. Heero hadn't seen any evidence of either trait. That Barton was bright, he had no doubt. But he did not have the mannerisms of a young executive. And he was living on the streets of L2.

The possibility that Barton had once been not an employee but a lover of Khushrenada's again crossed Heero's mind. A lover might have access to private areas where personal information would be kept. Barton may have wormed his way into Khushrenada's bed, tracking the man's routine, using his personal computer, learning his secrets. Or perhaps he had been the wife's lover. It was more common than people thought – the wife of a powerful man, ignored for the most part except when needed at social functions – taking on a younger lover. He would still have access to Khushrenada's private rooms. Perhaps that's how Barton came into possession of Leia Khushrenada's cross. He wasn't sure when the woman had passed away. Maybe that was the kid's story.

But where was the money? Had he stolen it for someone else and been double crossed? Had he stashed somewhere inaccessible? There was more going on than what he had been told. It was not his place to ask questions, but this whole situation was making him uneasy.

The cab pulled up to Heero's hotel. Heero paid the man and added an generous tip just to be safe. The cabbie grunted and muttered, "Right, never saw you," before pulling away and speeding off into the night. Supporting Barton's limp body with one arm, he managed to shrug out of his jacket. He arranged the jacket over Barton's bound hands, then picked him up, cradling the kid in his arms.

He used the drunk excuse again to the bored night clerk on duty as he entered what passes as the lobby. The clerk simply shrugged and said, "Whatever," before handing over Heero's key and going back to his magazine.

The kid looked slight, but he was a mass of muscle, Heero found out as he trudged up the two flights of stairs to his room. He managed to get the door open without much difficulty despite the burden in his arms. Kicking the door closed behind him, he went straight to the bed, laying the kid down as gently as possible. He turned on the bedside lamp and checked the kid's pupils, noting with satisfaction they were dilating properly, though he'd have a shiner in the morning. He'd hit the kid hard, but hadn't wanted to cause damage. He seemed to be asleep. Heero noted the dark circles under his eyes and wondered how long it had been since the kid had gotten a decent night's sleep.

He tossed his jacket aside and stretched Barton's arms over his head to thread the cuffs through the bars of the headboard. After making sure the kid was as comfortable as he could be, he went around the room, quickly packing up his things and shoving them in his duffel. With that accomplished all that was left to do was wait until morning when he could catch the next shuttle back to Earth to reap the biggest payment of his life.

With the kid on the bed, there was only the questionable floor or a rickety old chair for him to rest in. He chose the chair. Moving it in front of the door, he settled down for a restless night.

He wasn't sure when he dozed off or how long he'd been asleep. But a slight noise from the direction of the bed jerked him out of a hazy dream. He froze, seeing Barton standing at the window, cuffs gone again, trying to make an escape. Fortunately for Heero, he'd checked the windows earlier and knew they couldn't be opened.

He launched himself out of the chair. Barton turned, throwing himself to the side. Heero caught him around the waist and toppled both of them to the floor. Barton bucked, struggling in Heero's grip. Heero managed to flip the kid over on his back and, straddling his waist, he pinned Barton's wrists to the floor.

"No! Let me go! I have to get to her!" Barton's face was twisted in fury, muscles straining as he tried to break Heero's grasp.

"She's not your concern anymore," Heero reiterated, feeling aggravated that the kid had managed to get out of the handcuffs again.

The fight suddenly went out of the kid. He slumped against the floor, breathing in raggedly. Heero let his grip loosen just a little. He stared at the kid underneath him, puzzled again at the desperate look on Barton's face.

"Please," the kid whispered, looking at him imploringly. "They'll hurt her. I owe Quinze money. I have to pay him – or agree to work it off – or they'll make her pay my debt for me in one of his… whore houses."

Heero wrinkled his nose in disgust. He knew forced prostitution was rampant on some of the poorer colonies, L2 most especially. The thought of forcing anyone into that kind of life sickened him. He felt for this faceless girl – and for her boyfriend, still silently begging him with wide, scared eyes – but he had his own job to do.

"Your girlfriend will just have to take care of herself. We're leaving for Earth as soon as the day cycle begins."

The young man shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend. Please…" His voice choked on the word, as if he hadn't had to say it much in his life.

Heero growled. "I told you, she's not…"

"She's only eight years old."

Heero froze. He searched Barton's face for signs of deception. When he didn't find any, he let go of the kid's wrists, sitting back on his heels. "What?"

Barton pushed himself up on his elbows. Heero could see him trembling slightly. "I… I'm usually careful about where we hole up, but Alex – he's Quinze's son – must have found out." He took a deep, ragged breath. "Vy is a street kid. I found her digging through garbage a few months ago looking for something to eat. I took her in. The kids, especially the little girls, don't last long unattended out there." He reached up and took a hold of Heero's shirt. "Please… I'll do whatever you want. I'll go with you without a fight, just please, let me go so I can get her out of there. She doesn't deserve to pay for my stupid mistakes."

Heero looked at the hand clutching his shirt for a moment before turning his gaze back to the kid. He didn't think Barton was lying. And what he'd heard of the exchange between him and the blond seemed to match his story.

Somewhere out there was a little girl in trouble. A child, whose only crime had been to have the misfortune of being taken in by a thief. Barton didn't seem the type to prey on little girls himself, so what he'd done, taking her in, could be considered admirable.

And yet, was it his problem that she was out there? About to suffer a fate almost worse than death? Bound to a life of slavery and abuse at the hands of sick bastards who got off on torturing the innocent?

A vision swam before his eyes, of another little girl with blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, following him so trustingly until he'd betrayed that trust and destroyed her life. He'd been the one to cause the innocence in her eyes to fade. He'd vowed to never know that feeling again. He swallowed hard and looked back at Barton.

He was torn. He could end this life he'd made for himself by bringing Barton back to Earth and delivering him to Khushrenada. But would it be a life worth living if he knew he'd abandoned another little girl to a hellish existence?

"If I help you," he said slowly, catching one Barton's wrists and squeezing it tightly, "you'll come with me back to Earth, no fuss, no fight?"

He could hear the kid swallow loudly, his eyes widening at the offer of Heero's help, before he nodded. "Just help me save her, and I'll go with you."

Heero sighed. Double or nothing. He was beginning to hate those odds. He let go of Barton's wrist and stood up, offering the kid a hand up. "All right. But we do this my way, understand? And if you try to get away, I promise you I will find you and I promise it won't be pleasant when I do. We get her out, then you come with me. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," the kid said, taking his hand and letting Heero pull him up off the floor.

"All right." He moved to the bed to switch on another lamp. "Now, first thing. Tell me everything you know about this guy Quinze and his son."


	4. Chapter 4

L2 had a traditional provisional government that had been set up after the wars, with a governor and house of representatives consisting of a representative from each sector of the colony. The problem was that the "provisional" government had been in place for twelve years; the politicians having bought their way into office and were now under the thumbs of crime bosses.

One of the most powerful was Louis Quinze. He specialized in everything: drugs, prostitution, weapons, smuggling... he ran a tight organization and controlled nearly half of the entire colony. The governor was in his pocket and he outright owned the police force. One did not cross Quinze and expect to get away with it.

How Barton... no, Maxwell, as the kid insisted he be called, had become involved with the man himself, Heero didn't know. So he asked.

Maxwell shrugged. "I'd been doing odd jobs for him, here and there, nothing big and nothing illegal," he emphasized, looking at Heero. "Then Vy got sick, and I needed money for a doctor and some medicine. I asked for an advance on any future jobs he might want me to do and he gave it to me." He sighed, leaning against the wall, looking tired. "Two weeks later, he called in the loan. Two weeks! He knew I'd never get that kind of money in that amount of time. Bastard."

"How much?" Heero asked, checking his knives and slipping a third into his boot.

"Twelve hundred," Maxwell muttered angrily. Heero looked at him in surprise. The kid simply shrugged again. "I know that may not sound like much, and once upon a time it wouldn't have been, for me, but now... every little bit I manage to earn is gone before I know it. In case you haven't noticed, L2 isn't the most economically prosperous colony in the system. Jobs aren't easy to come by here."

"And so you owe him money."

"Yeah. I avoided him for a while, but that only made him angry. I've got a little saved, but it's nowhere close to the total." He rubbed his forehead, a pained expression on his face. "I was hoping I could just hide out until I had some more saved. I don't know how his asshole of a son managed to find me." He looked at Heero, fear in his eyes. "God, we've got to get her out of there... Christ, I don't even know your name."

"Heero," he replied, not willing to volunteer any more information.

"Heero." He said it a couple of more times, as if trying the name out. "Alex is a psychotic nutcase with a thing for kids. He won't touch her until after the deadline, but we have to get her out of there before he gets a chance."

Heero bent to grab his pack, shouldering it quickly. He glanced out the window. The day cycle was just beginning and it had finally stopped raining. He turned back to Maxwell. "I want you to take me to where you're supposed to meet him tonight. Then we'll find some place to wait until dark."

"But…" Maxwell started to protest, but Heero cut him off.

"No. You said yourself he won't touch her until tonight. I need to scout the place, check the exits, get a feel for the layout. I'm not going in there blind and you're useless to me if you get killed."

Maxwell looked at him hard, before crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "He won't kill me. I'm too 'valuable.'"

Heero took Maxwell's arm, escorting him to the door of the hotel room. The kid shook his hand off angrily. "I don't need to be led like a dog, man!"

Heero looked pointedly at Maxwell's braid. Maxwell's eyes narrowed and he muttered a "Fuck you" before following Heero out the door. They rode the elevator in silence, Heero holding off any more questions until they were out on the street.

Early morning on L2 was surprisingly busy. Even on an economically depressed colony Heero supposed the people still had to get to whatever jobs they had on time for fear of losing them. The air outside was stale and Heero wondered when the last time the filter system had been cleansed.

He stopped at a corner market and purchased two breakfast bars. He tossed one to Maxwell, who muttered a surprised thanks. Heero shrugged, tearing into his. Like the air, it too was stale, but food was food and he noticed the kid ate his with gusto.

He let Maxwell take the lead once they got into the crowds. He led Heero on a criss-cross path, down two alleyways to another street before coming to rest beside a bus stop. "We'll have to take a bus from here," the kid explained, hopping up to perch on the back of the bench next to the stop. "It's a higher class neighborhood. Wouldn't look right to just wander in on foot."

Heero nodded, digging in his pocket for enough credits. "So why does Quinze consider you too valuable?" he asked, counting out the correct amount for two fares.

Maxwell blushed slightly. "He knows I have a little talent for computer systems. He'd been after me for a while to do some work for him, hacking and such. But I wouldn't." He sighed and held his head in his hands. "I think he was just waiting to get me into a situation where I couldn't say no. Damn it!"

Heero shrugged. "Your kid was sick. What else were you supposed to do?"

"Go to someone else? I dunno… I was kinda desperate." He didn't sound too happy.

"We all get desperate sometime in our life," Heero replied softly. Maxwell looked at him, eyebrow raised in question, but Heero was saved from having to explain by the arrival of the bus.

The trip on the bus took close to half an hour. Maxwell sat near the window, while Heero stood so he could observe the other passengers. Neither spoke to the other; the bus was far too crowded. They left the slums pretty quickly. Heero wasn't too surprised to note how close the poorer areas of L2 were to the more affluent neighborhoods. No wonder crime was so rampant on this colony.

Maxwell stood as the bus pulled over to the side next to a fuel station. Heero followed him off the bus. The kid nodded down the street. "Around the corner is a dry cleaners. It's one of Quinze's, though Alex is in charge. He runs his… operations outta there."

"I take it clothing isn't all they're laundering?" Heero asked.

"You got that in one," Duo replied.

"Hn. Wait here," Heero said, shrugging off his jacket and handing his duffel to the kid.

"What are you going to do?"

He held up his jacket. "Kill two birds with one stone. Get a look at the place and get my coat cleaned."

"Let me come…"

"No," Heero interrupted vehemently. "You can't risk being seen, not yet."

"But…"

"Just wait here, or I call our deal off right now."

Maxwell looked at him for a long, hard moment. "Fine," he said grudgingly.

Heero left him sitting at the bus stop with his bag. The dry cleaners was just a step up from being the roach-infested dive he'd expected, but not by much. Then again, he supposed the colonists in this area of L2 were the some of the few who *could* afford to use a dry cleaners, so they probably wouldn't be too picky.

He entered through the front, noting the security cameras. Pretty high tech for a simple dry cleaners. A middle-aged woman took his coat. As she filled out his receipt, Heero craned his neck to see through the window into the back. He couldn't see much through the racks of clothing, but there seemed to be some office space at the far end of the building.

Taking his receipt, he thanked the woman and left. He did a quick recon of the outside of the building, taking in windows and exits. There were more security cameras in the back. Heero memorized the layout, then left, hurrying back to Maxwell.

The kid was surprisingly where he'd left him. Heero had half thought he'd try to run again. He must really care about the girl, Heero thought, to not only risk his own life, but to cooperate with the person sent to bring him in. His level of respect for the kid went up another notch.

"Find what you needed?" his companion asked, handing over Heero's bag.

"I saw enough. Now, we need someplace to wait until dark."

Maxwell nodded. "I know just the place. Follow me."

Heero followed the kid through the narrow streets once more, avoiding people where they could. He took them down a narrow passage, little more than a space between buildings, to the back of an Italian restaurant. Heero was instantly overwhelmed by the smell of garlic.

Maxwell wrinkled his nose. "Sorry about the smell, but it's warm back here, and dry, and I think they're going to let it rain again today."

Heero nodded. "I can deal with it."

"Good." The kid led him underneath a set of metal stairs that led to the roof of the building. There were some pieces of cardboard laying half underneath. Maxwell quickly tore off the damp parts, tossing them out, before arranging the dry bits so they'd have something to sit on. He plopped down and patted the space next to him. Heero suppressed a disgusted grunt before dropping his bag and joining the kid on the ground.

The shelter was surprisingly snug. Huddled underneath the steps, they were mostly hidden from view. A steam vent from the restaurant kept the chill of the morning air off them, for which Heero was grateful as the kid did not have a jacket and he'd left his at the cleaners. And a few minutes after they'd settled themselves, Maxwell's prediction of rain came true. Fortunately, it wasn't as heavy as it had been the past few days.

They sat in silence for a long while, Maxwell watching the rain while Heero watched Maxwell. The kid was an enigma. He didn't act like a thief, at least not the high corporate kind. And while his speech and mannerisms made him stick out on the streets of L2, they weren't the polished verbal skills of a young executive. There was definitely something more to the kid's story, but Heero didn't know if he should find out what it was.

"Can I ask you something?" the kid brought Heero's train of thought to a grinding halt.

"I believe you just did," he replied dryly.

"Ha ha."

Heero sighed. "Go ahead."

"Why are you helping me?"

Good question. Heero wasn't quite sure himself. "Guess I'm a sucker for hard-luck cases," he said, avoiding Maxwell's gaze.

The kid looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Gotta be more than that. I mean… okay, how much are you getting to bring me in?"

Heero let his eyes slide over to Maxwell before looking away. "A million." No need to mention the other million if he brought the cross back with him.

The kid stared at him, speechless for a moment. "Holy fuck… a *million*? Jesus…"

Heero shrugged.

"Now I gotta know. Why are you risking a fucking million to help me rescue some girl you've never even met. Hell, you barely know me. I'm your fucking *bounty*. And it's not that I'm not grateful for your help but… I don't understand."

Heero sighed again. "I'm helping you because I want this rundown to be easy. You promised to go without a fight. If I bring you in, this is the last one I'll ever have to do. I'll finally have enough money to keep an old promise and to start a new life." He snorted, looking at the kid. "Or did you really think I enjoyed this line of work?"

It was Maxwell's turn to shrug. "Some might. Thrill of the hunt and all that."

"Not me. Not since… well, not anymore."

"What happened?"

Heero didn't answer for a long time. "There was… a little girl. Older than yours, but sweet, innocent. She loved me and I… cared for her, a great deal."

"What happened?"

"I killed her parents." Shocked silence was his only reply. "I may not have pulled the trigger, but I was responsible all the same."

"Jesus…"

Heero gave a tired sigh and leaned against the back wall. "Despite everything, she forgave me, and in return, I made her a promise. As soon as I reached a certain monetary goal, I'd get out of this business and leave a peaceful life." He eyed Maxwell again. "You're my key to keeping that promise. And I'm sorry but… I have to keep it."

The kid looked at the ground. "Yeah. Tough shit for me, though, isn't it?"

Neither spoke for a while after that. Heero slipped into the restaurant a few hours later for some food and both ate in silence. Afterward he suggested they get some sleep, as neither had slept much the night before. The kid had been half asleep already and simply nodded and lay down on the cardboard, curling into a tight ball. Heero lay next to him, to keep his legs out of the rain and to be alerted if the kid tried to leave.

Surprisingly, they both slept until dark, Heero's internal clock waking him as the day cycle was beginning to dim. He woke Maxwell quickly.

"What time is it?" the kid asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Time to go," Heero replied, scowling out at the rain.

"Oh. Okay." Maxwell pulled himself up off the ground. "Listen, no matter what happens… Heero. Thanks."

Heero grunted. "Don't mention it. Just remember your promise."

"I won't. I always keep my promises."


	5. Chapter 5

They arrived outside the dry cleaners fifteen minutes before Maxwell's appointed time. They'd come up with a plan on the way - Maxwell would go in first, try to bide some time, while Heero disabled the security system. Maxwell had what credits he'd managed to save on him, hoping to buy some time with a payment, though he doubted Alex would let him off so easily.

Heero watched the kid enter the back door to the cleaners. Maxwell paused briefly in the doorway, throwing a glance over his shoulder where Heero was hiding behind a dumpster. Heero realized with a grunt that the kid was scared. He'd been on the run from Khushrenada for over two years, and he was scared of a local punk. He shook his head. Maxwell was one complicated person.

Hugging the wall, keeping out of the camera's line of sight, Heero crept up to the back of the building. Finding a foothold on the uneven bricks in the wall, he managed to climb the few feet to disconnect the camera. Someone would notice eventually, but Heero was betting that everyone inside would be too busy with Maxwell.

Dropping down to the ground, he entered the back door, peering in cautiously. The smell of steam and freshly laundered clothes hit him as he eased inside the dark building. He noticed another security camera panning the floor of the laundry, pointing away from him, fortunately. He slipped through racks of clothes hanging in plastic bags, avoiding the movement of the camera as much as possible. He timed the camera's pan of the floor, moving slowly toward the offices he'd seen earlier in the back.

He could hear voices emanating from the little room. The door was cracked slightly, yellow light spilling out into the darkened floor, gleaming like a beacon to guide Heero's way. He waited until the camera panned again before slipping the rest of the way to the door.

A harsh bark of laughter assailed his ears as he crouched down next to the door, using the racks of clothes to hide himself from the cameras.

"Come on, I've got over three hundred here!" he heard Maxwell say.

"You owe five times that, Duo!" Heero recognized the voice as belonging to the blond thug from the night before.

"I only borrowed twelve!" Maxwell argued.

"Interest," the blond spat. "To be paid in full. And since you can't pay… looks like you just have to come work for us." Heero didn't like the implications in the man's voice.

"Get away from me," Maxwell spat. Heero could hear movement, a rustling of clothing and Maxwell's sharp cry. Heero turned slightly, peering through the crack in the door. Alex had grabbed Duo by the arms, leaning in close.

"Maybe I ought to take some of what you owe my father, now, pretty boy," the blond leered.

Maxwell struggled in the larger man's grip. "You son of a bitch!"

The blond cracked his hand across the kid's face. Maxwell's head jerked back sharply, blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Don't talk about my mother, slut," the blond hissed, nodding at someone out of Heero's view.

Maxwell lifted his head, glaring at the blond. "Fucker. Fine. You have me. Let Vy go."

Now Heero could hear the muffled sobs of a frightened child as the blond's shorter companion dragged a small girl into Heero's line of sight. Alex shoved Duo down into a chair before pulling the girl out of the other man's hands. He pressed her small body against his and ran a large, club-like hand over her hair.

"Don't know if I should. She's really cute, Duo. She'd fetch twice as much as you. Have you had her yet?"

Maxwell let out a strangled scream before launching himself off the chair and at the blond. Heero stood. Time to intervene before the kid managed to hurt himself.

He knocked on the office door.

"Who the fuck…" he heard someone mutter before the door was flung wide and Heero found himself face to face with the dark-haired thug – Mueller, he believed Duo had said his name was, Alex's right-hand man.

Heero quickly surveyed the room. The child was on the floor, crying loudly. Alex had one hand wrapped around Maxwell's throat, but the kid was doing a good job of clawing at the man's face.

As Heero stepped into the room, its occupants froze, almost comically. Alex pushed Maxwell away. The kid tripped over the little girl and landed on his ass. The girl leapt at him, winding her arms around Maxwell's neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

"Who the fuck are you?" the blond demanded, momentarily forgetting the two at his feet.

Heero didn't answer him for a moment, giving Maxwell time to move both himself and the child a few feet away from Alex.

"I'm Mr. B…Maxwell's accountant," he deadpanned. He thought he could hear a strangled laugh from the floor.

Alex just blinked at him. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

"Through the door." He slid his hand into his pocket and drew out a stack of credit notes, what was left from the five thousand Khushrenada had given to him originally.

"What the fuck is that?"

Heero rolled his eyes. Alex's father must be the brains of the family. He flipped the stack of credit notes with his thumb. "Money. Creds. Plastics. Redbacks. Moolah. Do you locals have a different expression for it? You have to forgive me; I'm not from around here."

On the floor, Maxwell whispered something to the little girl. The child nodded, then crawled to the opposite end of the room, wedging herself between two filing cabinets.

Alex reached out and snatched the money. He flipped through them quickly. "Jesus, there must be…"

"Fifteen hundred. I believe that should take care of Mr. Maxwell's loan, plus any interest that might have accrued." He stepped forward and help the kid off the floor. "Now, if you don't have any further business with my client…"

"Fuck this shit!" Alex exclaimed, throwing the stack of credit notes at Heero's feet. "I don't accept. The little pansy's coming to work for my father. That was the deal."

"That was not, and you know it!" Maxwell shouted, his swollen face red with anger.

"Just give it up, Duo. My father just wants you to do a few jobs for him. A couple hours of your time and your debt will be erased."

Maxwell shook his head. "I'm not gonna do anything illegal and both you and your father know that." He bent and picked up Heero's money. "I have payment. Take it and let us leave, jerk."

Heero could see the blood rising to Alex's cheeks. He heard Mueller move behind them and saw the blond's almost imperceptible signal to his partner. Heero moved before Mueller did, shoving Duo out of the way, swinging around to block the man's fist with his arm. Mueller swung with his other fist, catching Heero with a glancing blow to his ribs as he turned. Heero grunted but kept hold of the man's arm, twisting back into the thug, gaining the leverage he needed to slam Mueller over his shoulder and into the ground.

Alex stepped forward, growling almost like a rabid dog as he lunged for Heero. They went down in a heap, Heero twisting in mid-air in order not to take the brunt of the fall. He got in a lucky punch to Alex's face, causing the blond to roll back, clutching his nose and howling in pain.

Heero scrambled to his feet just in time to avoid a kick in the stomach by Mueller. Heero countered with a blow to the guy's neck, sending him crashing into a desk, his head glancing off the edge. He landed on the floor with a thud, blood oozing from a gash above his eye. He didn't move.

Heero whirled to face Alex, freezing when he saw the man on his feet, gun in hand.

"You thun ob a bith!" he screamed, blood pouring down his nose. "You boke by dose!"

Heero tensed, ready to throw himself at the man. He had one chance, one shot at getting the gun pointed away from him and bring the man down.

He didn't get that chance.

Before he could move, Maxwell flung himself at the blond, sending them both to the floor, rolling around, struggling for the gun. Heero moved forward, intent on helping Maxwell. Alex rolled and pinned Duo under him. Heero couldn't see the gun. He lunged toward the two, digging his finger's into Alex's hair, yanking his head back.

The gun went off. Heero jerked back as blood splattered his face.

Neither of the two figures on the ground were moving. Heero could hear someone breathing raggedly. Then Alex slumped forward, collapsing on top of Maxwell, who began to struggle in earnest, trapped beneath the body.

"Heero? Heero! Fuck… get him off me!" Heero could hear the panic in the kid's voice. He bent down, pushing the now-dead weight off Maxwell. The gun slipped from the limp hand, clattering to the floor. Heero stared at the hole in the man's chest, right over the heart. The bullet must have gone all the way through, he thought, absently wiping blood off his face.

Maxwell was covered in blood. A heart wound bled profusely and the kid's once-gray shirt was now sticky red. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, face pale as a sheet, his eyes glued to Alex's body. Slowly he moved his gaze to the front of his shirt. Seeing the blood, the kid started to hyperventilate.

Heero knelt, grasping the kid's upper arms, shaking him slightly. "It's not your blood. Calm down."

Maxwell's eyes were open wide, straying again to the body. "He… I… god…"

"Snap out of it. We have to get out of here." A strangled sob was his only answer. Heero sighed in frustration. He didn't have time for this. He raised his hand and smacked the kid across his bruised face. The kid cried out softly, turning his eyes to Heero.

"With me? Good. We need to leave."

"But… I…" Again he looked to the body.

"Maxwell. Duo! Are you with me?" At the sound of his name, the kid looked back at Heero and gave him a small nod. "Good. We have to go. We have to get your girl out of here. Do you understand?"

"Y…yeah. I understand."

"Okay. Come on. We don't know who else may be nearby," Heero replied, standing and pulling the kid up with him. "Go get your girl. I'll be right back."

He headed for the door, picking up the pack of credits that were still on the floor and pocketing it, before checking on the other man quickly. He was still breathing, but his eyes were making rapid movement beneath his eyelids. He wouldn't be unconscious for too much longer.

He hurried out into the main laundry room. A quick search yielded a plain, black coat that would fit Maxwell, and his own jacket he'd left there earlier that day. He grabbed the two off the rack and hurried back to the office.

Maxwell had coaxed the child out from between the filing cabinets. Heero tossed the black coat to him. "Take off your shirt and put that on. We can't go out into the streets covered in blood."

The kid paled even more, but did as he was told, stripping the shirt off and flinging it to the ground. Heero did a quick sweep of the room as he waited for Maxwell to change. He didn't see any signs of monitors for the cameras, so the security system must be housed somewhere offsite. Heero swore softly, knowing their pictures would be aired colony-wide in a matter of hours. They had to get out of sight, off the streets and in a safe location until he could get them off colony.

"Heero?" Maxwell stood near the door, the little girl's hand clenched tightly in his. She was still crying, but quietly, as if she knew they now had to be careful. And maybe she did. Street kids were very intuitive.

"Let's go. We need to get out of the area as quickly as possible."

"We've gotta go back to my building," Maxwell said, pulling the little girl closer to him.

"Idiot," Heero replied. "That'll be one of the first places they look for you."

"I know," the younger man replied. "That's why. We have to get the others."

"Others?"

Duo sighed. "You didn't think she was the only kid I'd taken in, did you? I'm not leaving them there."

Heero could feel a very sudden, painful headache coming on. How had this job turned so complicated so quickly?

"Fine. But we don't have a lot of time," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Most of the kids have lived on the streets a lot longer than I have," Maxwell snapped. "They can be ready before you have a time to take a piss."

"You'd better hope so," Heero replied, walking for the door. "Remember, *you* are my priority. I save my own ass first, then yours. If the shit hits the fan, they're on their own, understood?"

Maxwell as silent as he and the girl followed Heero out the door. "I'm not abandoning my kids until they're safe, promise or no," he said as they exited the building.

"Then you'd better think of a place to stash them, and quickly," Heero replied, leading them down the street. "We're getting off this colony first thing tomorrow."

Behind him, the kid grunted. The little girl let out a hiccuping sob. The blood pounded behind Heero's eyes. What a mess. A small part of him wondered if two million was really worth this misery.


	6. Chapter 6

Heero ended up calling a cab after retrieving his bag from where he'd stashed it behind the cleaners. They were quite far from Maxwell's condemned building, and Heero wasn't sure how much of a head start they would have. Plus, the child was in no condition to walk that far. They climbed into the cab when it arrived. Heero looked to Maxwell to supply the address.

The cabbie looked surprised. "That's not a safe area, especially this late a night. Are you sure you want to go there?"

Heero sighed and passed a fifty through the little window to the driver. "You'll get another when we reach our destination with no more questions."

The driver grunted, taking the note.

Heero kept one eye on wet streets and the other on the kid. Maxwell and the girl had curled around each other. He was stroking her back, trying to calm her. Her tears had mostly subsided, but she refused to let go of her death grip on Maxwell. He could hear the two of them whispering to each other. Again Heero was struck by how young the kid looked. Yet, at the same time, his eyes spoke of someone who had to grow up too fast, who had seen too many things in such a short life.

Heero knew the expression well. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

"What?"

Heero was startled out of his thoughts to see Maxwell looking at him, his arms around the girl, a puzzled expression on his face.

"The child… is she… did they…?" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Maxwell shook his head to Heero's relief. "No, I don't think so. She said they didn't hurt her; she was just scared."

"Good." He turned to gaze out of the taxi window again.

"Heero?"

"Yes?"

He heard the kid take a deep breath. "Thanks. Really. I… I owe you."

"Just keep your promise. We need to leave tomorrow, early."

Maxwell sighed. "I know. They'll be looking for us."

"Aa."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. The little girl eventually fell asleep in Maxwell's arms. Maxwell had the cabbie drop them off several blocks from the building, in case he proved to have a loose tongue later. Heero offered to carry the girl, but Maxwell shook his head. "I've got her."

Heero let the kid lead him through the streets, thankful the rain had stopped again. They took a roundabout route, arriving at the back of the building some time later. Maxwell handed the girl off to Heero this time. Heero held her gingerly in his arms, uncomfortable with his burden. Maxwell knelt on the ground to pry open a window to the basement. He slid inside with ease, turning to hold out his arms for the girl.

Between the two of them, they managed to get the child through the window without waking her up. Heero followed, pulling the window shut behind him.

The basement was a mess, trash and other discarded items everywhere. A rusty bed frame loomed against one cracked wall and the remains of an old furnace stood in one corner, looking like some kind of giant gnome, squatting in the dark. There was a strong, pungent odor hanging in the air so thick Heero almost choked on it.

Maxwell hoisted the girl higher in his arms. "Sorry about the smell. No one wanted to attempt to clean the shit up. Watch your step."

Heero looked down, trying to see the floor in the dark. Shit? He really didn't want to know.

The air was a little fresher in the stairwell, but not by much. There was a faint odor of dried urine underneath a myriad of other smells, but the holes in the windows of the stairwell that weren't boarded up allowed some fresher air in.

Heero followed Maxwell up four flights of stairs. "Does anyone else live here besides you and your… 'kids'?" he asked gruffly, not wanting to leave any witnesses who could set the local authorities and Quinze on their trail.

The kid shook his head. "No. We got pretty lucky when we found this place." He sighed. "I knew we'd have to leave someday. Just didn't think it would be this soon."

"Do you have somewhere in mind to move everyone?"

Maxwell snorted. "Of course. Always have a backup and an escape route. It was one of the first things I learned, living out here." He pulled the door to the fourth floor landing open, gesturing Heero to precede him inside.

The hallway was dark. Heero blinked, momentarily lost. He heard Maxwell come in behind him, the door to the landing swinging shut. He shuffled forward, peering through the dark.

"Which way?" he asked, his voice sounding incredibly loud in the darkness.

"Not one step further," answered a strange voice somewhere ahead of him, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. Heero froze, reaching back to shove Maxwell behind him.

"Heero…" Maxwell started but was immediately shushed by Heero. He didn't want whoever was in the hallway with him to know exactly where they were.

"Duo? That you?" This time Heero could tell the voice was young – younger than Maxwell at least. He felt Maxwell move from behind him, walking toward the voice.

"Yeah, Pete. It's me."

The voice let out a shrieking "Whoop!" and Heero relaxed slightly as he heard the gun being uncocked.

"Careful, careful! Vy's sleeping," Maxwell hissed.

"Thank god," the other voice said.

Heero walked forward, looking at his watch, its green glow casting an eerie shadow down the hall. Shit. This was taking too much time.

"Maxwell…" he warned, moving up behind the kid, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, I know. Here, Pete. Take Vy for a bit will ya? I gotta get the others packed and ready to go. And I thought I told you no guns!" In the dark Heero felt Maxwell take his hand, pulling him through the dark. Feeling the hand in his own felt… strange. Not unpleasant, no… something else. But he didn't have time to figure out what it was. They needed to be gone, as quickly as possible.

"Aw, it ain't loaded, Duo," the other replied. Heero grunted.

Maxwell pushed open a door. Heero blinked in the dim light, provided by a single, battered campfire-type lantern. He stood next to the door, getting a look at the boy now carrying Vy. He had been right in the estimation of the boy's age. He looked to be no older than thirteen. Fourteen at most.

"What happened with Alex?" the boy – Pete – asked.

Even in the pale light, Heero could see the blood rush from Maxwell's face. Heero took pity on him and answered for him. "He's dead."

"Oh, fuck!"

"Pete! Language!" Maxwell snapped, in what sounded to Heero like an automatic response.

Heero turned to Pete. "How many kids do you have here?" he asked.

Pete shrugged. "Nine. Ten if you count Duo."

"Okay. Here's what you need to do. Wake them up. Tell them to pack up as much as they can carry. Take only what's necessary. You're in charge of them, do you understand?" Heero asked, looking the boy in the eye.

"Who the fuck are you?" Pete asked, mistrust oozing from his voice.

"Pete!" Maxwell rebuked again.

"Duo! Don't lecture me about language. You disappeared last night after finding out Vy was gone, then you come back and say Alex is dead and yer with some guy who starts telling me what to do!"

Duo sighed. "Look, Pete. I'll tell you everything later, okay? Right now we have to get out of here and quickly. This is Heero," he said, gesturing towards the bounty hunter, "and he helped me rescue Vy. He… he's a good guy. You can trust him."

Heero heard the slight tremble in Maxwell's voice. And suddenly he felt like the biggest bastard in the EarthSphere for being there, for planning on taking Maxwell away from these children. But he'd signed the contract and Relena's promise held him bound. He was only doing his job, after all.

Pete gave him one more hard look before backing down. "Okay. I'll go get the others." He turned and disappeared into a back room, where a moment later Heero could hear the sleepy voices of children through the walls.

Heero turned to Maxwell. "Get your stuff, too."

"Yeah, okay," the kid said listlessly, before moving to a torn mattress in the corner.

Heero watched as Maxwell gathered up some clothes, taking time to shed the stolen coat and pull a shirt on over his head. Satisfied that Maxwell was taking care of himself, Heero moved to the back of the abandoned apartment, pushing open the door to the children's room, to check on the progress there.

The room was a flurry of activity. Eight children, most half asleep, were shoving clothing and other necessities into worn backpacks, garbage sacks, anything they could find to hold their things. Pete seemed to be the oldest. There were two girls who looked to be a couple of years younger than him, maybe eleven or twelve, but the other five were very young – much too young to be living in a condemned apartment building with a guy barely out of his own childhood trying to take care of them. Heero wondered where their parents were.

Maxwell appeared behind him in the doorway, the girl child hanging onto his hand, rubbing sleepy eyes. "Pete, did you get Vy's stuff?" he asked, slinging his own pack over his shoulder.

The boy nodded, holding up a sack. "I'll carry it for her."

"Okay. Bekkah, I want you to be in charge of Vy, Leigh and Pidge. Sel, you've got David, Lindz and Jorje. Pete, you're on lookout with me and Heero, okay? We've got to move quickly. As soon as you're done in here, meet at the door."

Heero followed Maxwell into the front room, picking up his own bag. "Where are we going?"

"Out here, you never can stay in a place for too long," the kid said quietly. "You don't ever really get comfortable. When you find a new place, first thing you do is scout out a second place, just in case you have to leave the first place in a hurry."

"And you have this second place? Are you sure Quinze won't be able to find it?"

Maxwell smiled ruefully. "Pretty sure. We found it by accident, scavenging for scrap to sell. We were going to start cleaning it up in a few days, but I guess we'll just have to make do as is for now…" He looked away. "Or rather, Pete and the girls will have to."

The guilt hit Heero again. By taking Maxwell back to earth, he was condemning these children to fend for themselves. He could see that in the few months they'd been together, they'd all formed a close bond, almost like a family, and he was going to be taking their sole provider. He wished, not for the first time, that he'd never gotten into this line of work. But it was all he knew how to do really – bring the bad guys home. The only thing was, he wasn't sure if this time he had the bad guy.

The children quickly gathered in the front room, the smallest ones now wide awake and scared. But none of them were crying. They were made of sterner stuff than Heero would have thought.

Maxwell stood before them, smiling down on the little ones. "Okay, remember when Pete and I told you about the trains?" There were a few reluctant nods of the head. "How would you guys like to take a night time adventure trip to see them?"

At the words "adventure" and "trip," small eyes grew wide and round. One little girl popped a thumb in her mouth, sucking happily as she bounced up and down in place.

"Are you really gonna take us to play with the trains, Mr. Duo?" a small boy asked, eyes aglow with anticipation in the dim light.

Maxwell smiled down at him. "Better than that, Pidge. We're gonna live there for a while."

The children burst into excited chatter. Heero winced. This wasn't a good idea. Children were cumbersome, slow and made a lot of noise. But, looking at the girl, Vy, still clinging to Duo's hand, he couldn't, in good conscience, leave them here for Quinze's men to find them. He would just have to make the best of an already bad situation.

Maxwell let them chatter for only a few moments before he shushed them. "Listen, guys. I know you are all excited about seeing the trains, but this is a 'secret' adventure." The kid's voice dropped to a whisper. "You have to stay quiet as mice. Stay close together, and don't make any noise. There are some bad men who don't want us to play with the trains, and if we make noise or get lost, we won't get to play."

Solemn faces nodded their promise to their de facto leader. Heero was impressed. Whether the children would be able to obey him was yet to be seen. But from the expressions on the children's faces when Maxwell had mentioned the "bad men," Heero had no doubt they knew exactly what he meant. He had to remind himself that these were no ordinary children. They were street kids, tough and intelligent, older than their years. Perhaps they could pull this off after all.

Maxwell herded the kids into their groups. Pete picked up the lantern and led his charges out the door toward the stairwell. Heero stayed at the back of the pack with Maxwell.

"Remember, all the way down," the kid said to the children, closing the door behind them.

Heero was amazed at how quietly eleven people – nine of them children – could move down the stairs. They moved quickly, small feet shuffling down into the darkness. Heero had to wonder how they would escape the building unseen. A gang of children carrying bags and sacks would definitely be noticed. He wondered if there was a back entrance, or if they would be going out the basement window.

As they passed the broken stairwell window between the second and first floors, the squealing of tires from outside made Heero pause long enough to look through a gap in the boards.

Two black cars had pulled up in the street outside. Four men from each car exited, each carrying a weapon of some sort. Most carried guns, but a couple had baseball bats. One looked to be carrying a sword. Heero hissed down the stairs. "They're here!"

He heard Maxwell swear, then urge the children as softly as he could to get down faster. Heero pulled out his knife, wishing, for the first time, that he had taken Alex's gun with him from the cleaners. Or that Pete had bullets for his. There was no way he could take on eight men by himself.

For a brief moment he was horrified that the children were going to stop on the first floor, but to his relief, they continued down into the basement. Good. If they could somehow block the stairwell, they would have a better defense point.

Maxwell herded the children into the boiler room. Heero quickly pushed the door shut, then looked around for something to block it with.

Maxwell and Pete rushed over to the old boiler and began pushing on it. Heero hurried to help. The boiler, if they could move it, would provide adequate cover. But to his surprise the two young men weren't pushing the rusted hulk towards the door. They pushed it away from the wall just enough to reveal a hatch in the floor.

Maxwell pulled the hatch open, revealing some kind of access well. Pete, with the lantern, scrambled down a set of rungs embedded into the side of the well. Maxwell lined the kids up, dropping their bags down into the well before helping the kids onto the ladder.

Above them, Heero could hear the men shouting at each other, running up the stair to the now-abandoned apartment. He turned back to Maxwell and the children, rushing forward to help. Together, though it seemed agonizingly slow, they got all eight kids into the well. Maxwell dropped his pack down the hole, then moved to climb down the rungs. Heero caught his arm.

"Wait. We can't let them find the hatch." He looked around the room, eyes lighting on the boiler. It sat on for raised legs, not very high off the ground, but both he and Maxwell were slender enough, they might be able to shimmy underneath it. "Move the boiler back over the hatch."

Maxwell's eyes grew wide. "We won't be able to close it."

"That shouldn't matter. They may not think to look underneath."

The kid nodded and moved to the boiler. Heero followed, pressing his shoulder against the old heater. Grunting, the two of them moved it the few feet needed to cover the hatch sufficiently to block it from prying eyes. Maxwell dropped to the floor, on his belly, and shimmied backwards underneath the boiler. He hissed as the lower lip caught and scraped his back, but he wiggled until he reached the well, easing himself inside.

Heero kicked trash across the floor to hide the scrape marks. Pulling an old, molding blanket from one corner, he, too, dropped to the ground. It was a tight fit, and he had to bite his lip from crying out when his head hit the bottom lip, but he wormed his way underneath, finding the well and pulling himself into it. He reached up to grab the blanket, pulling it over the hatch as best he could. Hopefully, no one would want to touch the foul smelling blanket or want to pull it out to see why it had been stuffed under an old boiler. Hoping they'd done enough to cover their escape, or at least bide some time, he quickly scrambled down the rungs to join Maxwell and the children at the bottom.


	7. Chapter 7

They were in the underbelly of the colony, deep in the access tunnels that ran under the streets that kept the colony running. Maxwell and the children led him down two more levels, into tunnels that most likely no human had passed through in years. It was cold, as the heat lamps that provided heat to the "surface" did not reach below ground. It was mostly dark as well, though every so often they would pass an old, flickering light, casting long shadows down dark tunnels. After the colonies had become more automated, there had been no need for simple maintenance, such as light bulb changes, below the surface.

Heero huddled into his jacket, grateful for the little warmth it provided as his breath billowed in a white, puffy cloud before his face. The children didn't seem to mind the chill, though some didn't have so much as a light jacket. Either they were used to such temperatures, or they knew something was wrong and getting to their destination quickly and quietly could be a matter of life and death.

Heero felt a small pang in his chest for these children. He'd had a mostly normal childhood, for an orphan. No child should have to live under such conditions. And yet, all children on L2 were subject to similar conditions, whether they had a home or not. They and their families existed at the whim of corrupt politicians and high profile criminals. And there was little anyone could do about that, at least, not with the current political climate.

He was spared from his current train of thought by Pete's voice drifting from the front of the group. "Duo? Left or right?"

Maxwell moved forward. "Right, then down the stairs."

"We're nearly there?" Heero asked quietly, rubbing his hands together.

"Nearly."

A few minutes later, the group entered a large, almost cavernous room. There was no light, save for the small lantern Pete still carried. The air was warmer, despite the large size of the room, meaning wherever they were must have been more insulated than the tunnels.

Maxwell left Heero's side to see to the children. He instructed them to leave their bags and to sit together in a group while he, Heero, Pete and the two older girls could clean a space for them to sleep.

Maxwell disappeared into the dark, and a moment later, heralded by a loud bang of a heavy switch being thrown that echoed off the walls, light flooded the room. Heero blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes. He looked around, impressed with the place Maxwell had found.

It almost looked like an old subway terminal, though from the layout he could guess that it hadn't been people who had used it. There were two old, rusting train cars sitting on a piece of broken track. The one at the far end of the room, resting against a closed off section of tunnel, looked to be more sound than the other. It had three walls, with an opening in the fourth to load cargo. Heero immediately realized they were in the old colonial transport system, which had carried goods and materials from the 'ports to different parts of the colony, before the system became so old and outdated, it was simply abandoned for newer forms of transportation technology, namely the small colony hoppers that made short space flights from 'port to 'port. They were cheaper and consumed less of the colony's energy than these old "train" cars had.

Maxwell immediately set Pete and the two older girls to cleaning the floor of the car so the smaller children would have some place to sleep. Heero decided to make himself useful, gathering up some bits of paper and other burnables into a steel trash can he found at the far end of the tunnel. While the tunnel was warmer than the access corridors had been, it was still chilly. And the children needed to be warmed.

Warning the kids not to go near the burning barrel, he set it near them and turned to see Maxwell studying him carefully.

"Thanks," the kid said, coming up beside him to warm his hands over the fire.

Heero shrugged. "I was cold."

Maxwell gave him a sidewise smirk. "Sure. Thanks anyway."

"Aa." Heero wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't want to feel pleased that the kid had noticed his efforts. He didn't want to feel anything for Maxwell's situation or for the children, who had formed their own family when they had none. He wanted to get his job done, take the money he earned and leave his past behind. And yet, here he was, not only helping his quarry but *respecting* him as well. He was beginning to lose focus of his goals, and he didn't like it.

Pete hopped out of the car and walked over to them. "We're done, Duo."

Maxwell moved, almost reluctantly Heero noticed, from the fire and over to the kids. "Come on, guys. Let's bunk down and try to get some sleep."

Heero held back, watching as Maxwell and Pete got the children into the car and settled down, warm under extra clothes and some blankets they'd brought with them. Most were asleep before their heads hit their makeshift pillows. Heero couldn't blame them. It was still the middle of the night, and they'd walked a long way.

He turned his attention back to the fire, letting himself get lost in his thoughts for a while.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard Maxwell jump down from the car the children were sleeping in. He looked up, watching as the kid strode over to a panel on the wall, pulling a large switch down and plunging the tunnel into darkness. In the train car, someone whimpered. A soft voice from inside soothed the child, then there was nothing but the crackling of the fire to break the silence of the dark.

Maxwell slipped into the dancing shadows to stand next to Heero again. "The kids are down, but it's pretty crowded in there. I thought maybe you and I could sleep in the other one."

Heero grunted. The other car was less sound, missing the back wall and one of the side walls. But it would be better ventilated than the other. They could take the fire with them. The children, sleeping together under various blankets and clothing, would be warm enough, but Heero had planned on colder temperatures and he didn't think Maxwell would be up to sharing body heat…

Heero felt his cheeks grow warm at the thought. Then he frowned. And where had that image come from? He didn't deny the kid was attractive. And had he not been on a job, he would have felt no guilt at trying the kid out for a tumble or two. But the kid *was* his job, and he could not afford to feel attracted to the very person he was supposed to bring in. He was a professional, and he had never failed in his mission.

"Think you can help me move this barrel?" he asked, pushing all inappropriate thoughts out of his mind.

"Hmm, I think I saw a dolly over there somewhere. Wait a sec." The kid disappeared into the dark. How in the hell he could see anything was beyond Heero, but he returned, a few moments later, pushing an old dolly that was in desperate need of some fresh oil. Together they managed to load the burning can onto the dolly without singeing themselves and rolled it to the other train car.

Heero hopped up on the car and turned to help Maxwell lift the dolly. The fire gave them just enough light to see by. Maxwell dumped his bag and began cleaning off the floor of the car as best he could. Heero busied himself in his own bag, looking for a warmer shirt.

He wasn't sure what it was that made him look up at Maxwell – an errant noise perhaps, or maybe it was the way the kid had gone absolutely still. Maxwell stood near the fire, the stolen coat in his hands as if he were about to lay it on the ground. His face had gone slack and even with the red-gold light of the fire dancing reflections across the kid's face, Heero could see how pale he was. His hands were shaking… no, make that his whole body. A soft, strangled sound escaped his lips and Heero leaped toward him, barely catching him before the kid's legs gave out and he hit the floor.

Maxwell was dead weight in his arms. Heero didn't try to fight it. He lowered them both to the ground, his arms locked around the kid's slender body as it shook, almost violently. The kid's breathing was erratic, and his hands were clutching at the front of Heero's shirt. He was cold, despite the physical activity he'd been performing in getting a space for the children to sleep suitable. Heero recognized the symptoms of shock, and was amazed that the kid had gotten this far before giving in to it.

"Maxwell?" He pulled the kid closer, rubbing his hand up and down the kid's arms in an attempt to warm him. "Maxwell? Duo!"

"I…I…" the kid stammered. Heero heard him swallow hard. He gritted his teeth as the kid dug his fingernails harder into his shirt, scraping his skin.

"What's wrong, Duo? Can you tell me?" he asked as gently as possible. Screaming at the kid and telling him to snap out of it probably wouldn't help.

"I… Alex…" He bit back a sob. "I've never… there was so much blood and…"

Ah. Now he understood. "Your first kill."

Duo gave a strangled moan. "No… accident."

"Self defense. In fact, you probably saved *my* life," Heero said, moving his hands to rub the kid's back.

Maxwell sniffed and buried his face into Heero's chest. Heero suddenly felt warm all over. He frowned.

"I didn't mean to kill him," the kid said softly.

"I know. But he was a bad man. He would have hurt you. Vy, too. He would have killed me. It happened."

"Quinze will hunt me down."

"We'll be off colony tomorrow," Heero reminded him.

Duo inhaled deeply. "The kids…."

Heero suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. "They'll be safe here. This place is impossible to find."

"I found it," Duo all but whispered.

"Yes, but from the looks of things, no one has been here in years. They'll be all right."

Duo shook his head. "No, you don't understand. If Quinze can't take his revenge on me, he'll take it out on the kids. He won't stop." His shoulders shook. "It's all my fault."

"It's not…" Heero trailed off, realizing Duo wasn't in any shape to listen to him, really listen. "Look, isn't there someone you can trust to look after them? Or if there's no one you trust, surely you could… hire someone to take care of them?" The conversation was beginning to feel very surreal to Heero. "Surely the money you took could help?"

Duo stopped shaking. "I didn't steal any money. I don't know what that man told you, but I didn't steal anything." He sniffled. "Well, other than enough money to get me off-world. But that was legally mine to begin with."

"Then why…?"

"He'd say anything, I think… to bring me back…" Duo's voice trailed off and his head lolled against Heero's shoulder.

Heero sighed, but shifted the kid into a more comfortable position. There was more to Duo's story than both he and Khushrenada were saying, but it could wait until morning. The events of the day had exhausted his quarry, and Heero felt bone weary as well. Duo needed to sleep away the trauma he'd just experienced.

'When did you start thinking of him as "Duo"?' Heero thought with a start as he tried to arrange the stolen coat around the sleeping kid and himself.

He frowned as he thought about how quickly this job had gone south. There were too many unanswered questions, and this rundown was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. 'Tomorrow,' he promised himself as he settled in next to Duo, leaning against the cold, hard wall of the old train car, knowing their body heat and the fire would keep them warm and prevent Duo from slipping further into shock. Tomorrow he would get Duo's side of the story. And then…

Well, and then he'd finish the job he'd been sent to do.


End file.
